The Promised Sea
From the direction of Trai Island, flocks of seagulls formed shimmering silver streaks as they soared into the vast expanse of the sea. Tap… tap… tap… The lively calls faded into the waves, echoing across the swaying casuarina trees in front of Nhoi village. To the west, the sun was setting, casting deep red hues over the sea.
Short story Vo Thi Thu Huong
From the direction of Trai Island, flocks of seagulls formed shimmering silver streaks as they soared into the vast expanse of the sea. Tap… tap… tap… The lively calls faded into the waves, echoing across the swaying casuarina trees in front of Nhoi village. To the west, the sun was setting, casting deep red hues over the sea.
In the twilight hours, Nhoi village became quieter. Mount Ong and Mount Ba stood silently facing the sea, and Nhoi village was tinged with a deep green. The sea's sorrow was hidden in the sunken eyes of the woman, her gaze fixed on the fishing net draped across the pole of the boat, awaiting nightfall.
Độ was supposed to go out to sea this evening, but he returned dejectedly. He sat on the porch, a bottle of liquor in his hand, taking a sip every five minutes. The liquor flowed down his throat. Gone was the usual sensation of the burning heat slowly seeping into his bloodstream, which usually invigorated him. His mouth was dry, his tongue bitter, as if he were holding fish bile in his mouth. Độ tilted his head back and took another gulp. The burning hot liquor made his throat swell like a rooster struggling to crow.
Even Độ himself couldn't understand his feelings these days. He wanted to scream, to grab something and throw it away to vent his frustration. After sitting alone and downing an entire bottle of wine, he would go to the sea, his figure motionless and silent, his face somber, counting the countless specks of light from the fishing boats in the distance.
Mrs. Thien went to her son's house. Do was still sitting slumped beside a half-empty bottle of liquor. She looked at him, half worried, half pitying. If only she could whip him on the bottom like she used to when he was a child, it would ease her heart. Now, all she could do was snatch the bottle of liquor and whisper to him about all sorts of old and short stories. She recalled the fateful day, the day his father and eight strong men from Nhoi village disappeared after battling a storm at sea for hours. That day of mourning for Nhoi village was the day Mrs. Thien almost went mad with grief over the loss of her husband. But after the storm, the sea opened its heart to her. Relying on the sea, she overcame her loss and sorrow, walking along the jellyfish beach every day, waiting for the boats to return, gathering fish and shrimp to sell at the market. At nine years old, Do knew how to help his mother pick fish on the boat; by fifteen, he knew how to go out to sea with his uncles.
…An old man and a young man sat silently together until the Jellyfish Beach was deserted. Only the gentle sea breezes, caressing the pine forest, carried the salty scent of the sea.
A sudden realization dawned on him. He felt worthless, over 40 years old and still causing his elderly mother worry. His mother was right; no one in Nhoi village was weak. Perhaps it was because they lived by the sea, were used to speaking loudly and boldly, and faced the challenges of nature, but deep down they were sensitive and easily hurt by emotional shocks.
***
During his five years working abroad in Taiwan, Độ managed to save a considerable amount of money. He renovated his mother's old house to make it more comfortable and built a relatively sturdy house next to hers. With the remaining money, he bought a small boat to fish along the coast.
Bich was both Do's business partner and girlfriend. They returned to Vietnam at the same time and got married.
Two months after getting married, Bich said she needed 300 million VND to invest in a karaoke business outside the commune center.
He spoke calmly to his wife:
- Money for house repairs, building a house, buying a boat… where would we get that from, my dear!
Bich glared at her husband for a long time, then shrieked:
- How can you say that? If it runs out, just borrow some. Business is a shared responsibility, not just mine...!
Then, the young couple's life became a constant series of arguments. Bich would nag all day long: "I don't like the fishing profession. It's smelly. It's risky. It's poor!" Despite Do's gentle persuasion to rely on the traditional fishing trade like the other villagers in Nhoi, Bich argued back, quietly renting a space outside the commune center, 40 kilometers from Nhoi village, to open a karaoke bar. Not wanting to escalate their marital conflict and wanting to allow Bich to pursue her own business, Do reluctantly mortgaged the land to borrow money for Bich.
Bich used the excuse of living far away to rarely come home. Even when she did, it was very late, after Do had already gone out to sea. Do was so engrossed in his sea voyages that he didn't realize his happiness was teetering on the brink of a storm.
One early morning, as the boat docked, Độ excitedly called Bích to tell her about the big catch, but couldn't reach her. Sensing something was wrong, he rushed home to find a chaotic scene. The safe was broken open, and the money he had saved to pay off the bank loan, along with the wedding gold, had vanished. On the table lay a divorce petition already signed by Bích.
It turned out that Bich was having an affair with a guy who specialized in online cryptocurrency trading. He courted her with sweet words and flattery, causing Bich to fall for him and give him all her money and gold. The two despicable people then fled to the South together.
***
Bare-chested, he steered the boat, his chest puffed out to embrace the rushing wind in the deep, hazy night that enveloped the sea. His heart felt lighter as he gazed at the sea in its endless, mysterious stillness. After the pain, he understood life better; his mother's words from his days of despair still echoed in his ears: "The sea is most beautiful this season; if you don't go out to sea every day, you'll lose a day..."
As the boat began to move away from Jellyfish Beach, Độ suddenly saw someone struggling in the turbulent waves. He quickly grabbed a lifebuoy and a rope and threw them forcefully towards the person.
Hey… grab onto the rope quickly!
In the dim light, he spotted a girl. She didn't seem to hear Độ calling, nor did she pay any attention to the rope. "Another suicidal fool," Độ thought briefly, then jumped in and swam quickly towards her.
After a struggle, he finally managed to pull her onto the boat, laid her down, and gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Thankfully, after a while, the girl's eyes opened. Độ took out his spare clothes and gave them to her.
- Put this on to keep warm...
Then, half-jokingly, half-seriously:
And don't jump into the sea again!
He slowly turned the boat towards Nhoi village. The girl mumbled something, then sat up and took off her soaking wet clothes. The battery-powered lights from the boats in the distance illuminated her thin face, her lips slightly pursed. Trembling, she unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her pale skin. Several purple bruises were visible on her slender back. He looked straight ahead, but for some reason, those bruises seemed to spread out, reflecting a fleeting purple hue in his eyes.
Độ's house had another person in it. It was Mý, the girl Độ had saved the night before. The villagers of Nhoi were all busy with their own affairs, too preoccupied to gossip about their neighbors. Moreover, this wasn't the first time Độ had rescued someone from drowning, brought them home to care for them, and then tried to reconnect them with their families.
***
My recounted that her hometown, bordering Laos, was in a remote Hmong village. Her father was a gambling addict who owed a wealthy widower in the village 100 million dong, so he forced My to marry him to settle the debt.
My sobbed softly:
- Oh Dad, that's practically selling your daughter!
My father roared like a hungry tiger:
- My daughter doesn't love me enough to let me eat that poisonous leaf, I'll fall asleep and never wake up like your mother. My daughter...!
Out of love for her father, My reluctantly accepted. But the days she spent in Old Sung's house were the most horrific she had ever endured. After each drinking session, he would pin her down on the floor and force her to serve his perverse sexual desires. When My resisted, he would beat her mercilessly.
Overwhelmed with fear and disgust, in the middle of the night, My climbed over the stone fence and escaped. She went to the highway to catch a bus heading south, getting off at the small bend leading to the Jellyfish Beach.
Hearing that, Độ said:
- She bravely escaped that arranged marriage, so why would she want to die?
My smiled softly:
- No, Uncle. That day, after getting off the bus, I wandered around for a long time, and when my legs got tired, I saw the sea appear before me. It was the first time I'd seen the sea... I asked the sea to wash away all the dirt from my body, Uncle... But unfortunately, I was swept away by the waves...
Oh my God, I thought you were tired of living ever since that day!
My smiled again, a smile that brought a hint of freshness to her thin face.
In the following days, Độ continued to go out to sea regularly. Early in the morning, Mý and the women and girls of Nhoi village would go to the dock to welcome his boat. Each time she met Độ at the dock, Mý looked at him with eyes that were both affectionate and hesitant:
Uncle… he’s back…
The soft "brother" escaped the girl's lips. She obediently listened as Độ showed her how to carry the plastic baskets full of shrimp and fish ashore. Watching Mý work, Độ teased, "Wow, a mountain girl doing a seaside job so skillfully!"
Seeing Độ and Mý together, except for the villagers of Nhoi, no one knew what their relationship was. Some thought they were uncle and niece, siblings, others thought they were husband and wife…
As for My, every morning when she saw his tall figure standing on the boat's deck, her heart would flutter gently. A strange new feeling, she couldn't tell if it was longing, gratitude, or something else. It blossomed softly like waves at dawn, something she had never experienced before.
A moment of sunset on Jellyfish Beach. Streaks of purplish-blue clouds dispersed into ethereal patches of color shimmering across the sea. The girl's long hair fluttered in the wind. Her cheeks flushed, and she boldly nestled close to the man:
- My dear, I have to go back to my hometown tomorrow. I still have my father... Thank you for saving me, for giving me another chance to live...
The man showed no surprise; he nodded slightly and asked:
Will Mý return to the sea?
The girl remained silent. Before her eyes were two sand crabs carrying each other, running like lightning across the sand…
